


Caterwaul

by orphan_account



Category: Good Omens - Gaiman & Pratchett
Genre: 100-1000 Words, F/F, Ficlet, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-29
Updated: 2008-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pepper wasn't meant for the ordinary sort of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caterwaul

It was a fairly good life, before War. Pepper had hopes of going back to college one day, as soon as the business got better and they could relegate more of the hotel's day-to-day work to staff. Harry was off to a convention for a week - he did a lot of those, but Pepper didn't like to think it was because he wanted a break. She wanted a break, they all wanted a break, but it was bread and butter and what else could you do?

That was the week War rode in on a bright red chopper designed to look like a collection of sharp edges about to crash into soft flesh. She parked it outside the hotel and strode into the bar on her stilettos, strength in every movement, beginnings in the corner of her mouth. The wrong woman for a lot of men, Pepper had thought, as she poured her a drink and avoided her eye as she took the cash. War downed the drink, set the glass down with a clink, and Pepper looked up.

Two nights later Pepper stood on a firing range, holding a weapon she was fairly sure was illegal, War's arms around her. The gun had a long thick barrel and it kicked like a mule when she pressed the trigger, but warm strong fingers pressed down her arms and the bullet blew apart the black ink heart a killing distance away. 'Not bad,' purred War in a voice that suggested that the gun was the smallest thing in her arsenal.

'What else have you got?' asked Pepper.

The following noon Pepper woke up groggily on a sofa smelling of beer, her mouth tasting like badger fur, and struggled up and through an unfamiliar apartment towards the bathroom. It took some minutes of gargling and fighting nausea to realize it was a suite in the hotel, debauched beyond recognition. There was a suitcase open at the table, and staggering back into the room Pepper saw it, and knew whose room it was.

War stepped out of the bedroom in a red robe patterned with dragons, perfect in every way, her red lips parted in a smile, the whites of her eyes shining in a beam of light between turned curtains. She walked over, released Pepper's hair (still creaking from hair gel) from it's remaining binds, and kissed her, sharp and hard, and Pepper clutched her, digging fingernails into her lean musculature.

\- Pepper clutched the bedpost and rode War's mouth, pushing down when she wanted more, and damned if she cared if she was choking, she was fucking War for chrissakes, she would own the bitch if it was the last thing she did, oh god, oh fuck, but War grabbed her hips and pushed and she was on her back, her legs wide open, and what was she doing with her hand, oh bloody Hell.

War left the following weekend. Pepper got out of bed, groggy and sore and cut up, and heard the roar of the engine, but by the time she got to the window there was nothing to be seen but a trail of dust.

Harry came back to an empty home, never suspecting all his worry over lingering perfume on his fly had been for nothing. There were tiny drops of blood on the bedsheet, and a hole in the wall, as if from a steel pipe strike, and a mess of red hair in the bathroom sink.

Pepper had gone to War.


End file.
